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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25912147">C- for effort</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desolate_Smog/pseuds/Desolate_Smog'>Desolate_Smog</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>small fics for the soul (writer's month 2020) [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Job Acquisition, Coffee Shops, Early Mornings, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:41:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>951</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25912147</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desolate_Smog/pseuds/Desolate_Smog</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffee is all Logan has room for in his brain. That, and gay. </p><p>Writer's Month 2020, Day 15 - coffee shop</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>pre Logic | Logan Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>small fics for the soul (writer's month 2020) [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859371</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Writer's Month 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>C- for effort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan was exhausted. It was like a deep slow throb through his body, every heartbeat repeating the thought.</p><p>To sum up; university study.</p><p>Unless, of course, his summation didn’t meet requirements, in which case: he had three assignments due this week, two exams to study for, he was attempting to get Virgil through university by force, and his carefully crafted sleep schedule hadn’t held up to reality.</p><p>Hence why Logan found himself standing outside his favourite bakery an hour before they opened. The lights were not yet on, but Logan knew they would be in due time.</p><p>This in itself was not necessarily a problem (if he ignored the timer in his head telling him exactly how badly he’d failed to achieve one of the most basic parts of human sustainability), the main problem lay in the fact that there was a small person standing on the counter inside, their back to the storefront, staring in toward the darkened interior.</p><p>Admittedly, it had taken him a moment to comprehend the person, but Logan was justified in this fact. It was five am, after all. The sun had not yet risen. The person on the counter didn’t seem to be doing anything particularly malicious, nor could Logan see any weapons nearby.</p><p>The only feasible solution was to gain more data, and so, with all the courage that pure concentrate curiosity afforded him, Logan knocked on the door.</p><p>The person inside stilled. They twisted around their upper body slowly, reminding Logan of an owl until their head tilted sharply.</p><p>They jumped off the counter backwards, spinning in the air to face the rest of their body toward Logan and skipped to the door.</p><p>Logan refused to reconsider his stance on the supernatural until he had talked to the person.</p><p>The upside to whomever-it-was coming closer was that the streetlights made it easier to see them. As Logan had suspected, they were short—easily shorter than Logan’s shoulders. Their hair was wild, a grey patch in the middle (dyed? Natural? Inconclusive). Their grin was large and framed with a moustache. They wore booty shorts, a cropped sweater, and leg warmers tucked into uggboots.</p><p>In the privacy of his own mind, Logan could admit be was ever so slightly in awe of them.</p><p>They swung the door open before Logan had the chance to gather his thoughts in order.</p><p>“Hiya! You’re an eager beaver! Dincha know the first mouse is the one that gets caught in the death trap?”</p><p>“Oh. Well.” Logan said. “That would depend on the type of trap and if it was appropriately set up.”</p><p>“Hmm...” they said. “I like you. Come in; I’m Remus! How tall are you?”</p><p>“Six-one,” Logan answered as they walked inside.</p><p>“You’re basically a tree, then.” Remus nodded. They walked deeper into the store and jumped over the counter. “I’m a tiny baby boy. Swaddle me up and take me home daddy.”</p><p>Logan cleared his throat and decided to continue on with the conversation. He stood on the opposite side if the counter and watched Remus gather things in the dark. “What were you doing on the counter earlier?”</p><p>“I was trying to see the top of the cupboards!” Remus ran over, leaping on the counter and lying flat on it to poke him in the ribs. “You’re the tall spindly one that always wears a tie, right? You get chocolate chip cookies and a slice of the ‘cake of the day’ to go!”</p><p>“Yes, and a coffee,” Logan blinked. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before?”</p><p>“If I’m not out back I’m hiding under the counter.” Remus said, sliding back off the counter and leaning down to rest his arms and head on the counter. “To be honest, I probably would recognise you better by your shoes.”</p><p>“How could you do so when there isn’t a gap between the floor and the counter?”</p><p>Remus slammed his hands down—startling Logan—and pushed himself up so he was at eye level. “You didn’t even have to check! That’s it, we’re friends now.”</p><p>Remus finished climbing up onto the counter again, and pulled a battered phone out of his pocket. At least, Logan hoped it was from a pocket, though he could not fathom where said pocket would be. “What’s your number, new bffl?”</p><p>Logan’s hands twitched toward the pocket that held his slang sight cards, but he refrained. “You want my number?”</p><p>The lights turned on. Logan squinted in the new light. Remus rubbed at his eyes like a kitten.</p><p>“Remus!” Logan turned to see the manager, a tall man who’d served him at this establishment many times. “We’ve talked about the lights—oh, good morning?”</p><p>“Jay, look, I made a friend!” Remus shifted to face his co-worker, swinging his legs around.</p><p>Janus looked Logan over. “Logan, I believe?”</p><p>Logan nodded as respectfully as he could manage for 5 am. Janus hummed at him.</p><p>“Remus dear,” Janus said as he turned to walk back into the kitchen. “Where’s the new hire?”</p><p>“I thought he was!” Remus pointed at Logan.</p><p>Janus sighed. “I’ll call Chris in,”</p><p>“Aw, poo,” Remus stuck his tongue out. “Chris can go suck a dick.”</p><p>“I refuse to do everything by myself.”</p><p>“My new best friend will help!” Remus grinned sharply, staring Logan in the eyes. “You know how to work a cash register, right Lo-Lo?”</p><p>“Of course,” Logan said, even as his brain cried. Exam and paper due dates screamed at him, but he couldn’t leave now. There was too much to be learnt here.</p><p>“Welcome to hell, pretty boy!” Remus cheered.</p><p>Logan ignored the red flush in his cheeks and couldn’t help but think this was the correct course of action.</p>
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